


UtM Mini Blurbs

by susieq22



Series: Under the Mask [20]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Character Death, Gen, Guns, Implied Torture, Medication, Misgendering, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Periods, Transphobia, alright so some of these might make it into the fic but yknow what, if you don't wanna be slapped with transphobia and misgendering from sparrow, injuries, period themes in chapter 27, posting them here haksjhd, tell me if i need to add more!, that's a lotta characters oof, there's a lot of warnings uh, watch out for chapter 23 specifically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2020-02-23 20:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 12,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susieq22/pseuds/susieq22
Summary: A collection of mini blurbs from my UtM blog.





	1. Emmy and Swift: You're a Good Kid

“Hey, Swift?” The agent stepped forward from where he was standing. Bronev hadn’t dismissed him, and he didn’t quite know which boundaries to push yet. His hands twitched at his side, unconsciously wanting to reach and brush against his scar, which still tingled every now and again with phantom pains if he wasn’t careful enough.

“What is it?” Emmy spun the chair around, twirling her hair around a thin finger that she tapped against her cheek.

“Since Uncle Leon’s my guardian, that means I can boss you around, right?” Swift thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“I suppose so.” Emmy stopped spinning in her chair, leaning forward and giving Swift an almost serious look. The only thing that gave her intentions away was the glint in her eyes.

“Can I give you an order?” He hesitated. Would Bronev be upset with him? Finally, he sighed, then nodded.

“…Of course.”

Emmy smiled, cleared her throat, then pointed at him. Swift held back a flinch. “….I order you to smile more. You always look so down and gloomy, and I don’t like that look on you.”

“….” Honestly, Swift didn’t know what he expected. This was not one of those things. A lopsided smirk rose to his face at Emmy’s request, a few huffs of laughter leaping from his throat. The girl lowered her arm, confused, and she tilted her head.

“….Why are you laughing?” Swift shook his head, smile never leaving his face.

“You’re a good kid, Altava. Make sure your uncle doesn’t take that away from you.”


	2. Request (Sparrow): Trembling Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Afraid of me? You wound me, sweetheart."

“Please.” The woman’s voice was barely above a whisper, cracking from fear and abuse. Her hair hung around her face in greasy, bloodied clumps; trembling hands out in front of her as if that would stop Sparrow from approaching her.

He decided to entertain the idea, if for a moment. He slowed in his approach towards her, and the relief that spread across her face was absolutely _delicious_. Her hands began trembling even more, and an almost hysterical laugh bubbled from her quivering lips. Tears streaked down her face, and Sparrow tilted his head.

“Afraid of me?” He asked, tone velvety and smooth, not giving away anything. His lips ticked up slightly, showing yellowing teeth. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want to go home.” Her entire being quaked, voice choked. “ _Please_.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck here until Boss gets what he wants.” He looked down on her, condescending, before he began to approach her once more. “….If you live that long.”


	3. Request (Des): Don't Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Des has a nightmare.

Desmond woke up in a panic, thrashing and gasping for air. There were hands on him, shaking him and stroking his hair, and after a moment of struggling and taking in shuddering breaths, he realized where he was. His blurred vision finally settled on the smudged outlines of Nate and Olivia. He relaxed, tears burning in his eyes, and he fought the urge to cry.

“Des, it’s okay.” Liv mumbled gently, hand cupping his face and stroking his cheekbone with a gentle thumb. “It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.”

Nate leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, warm breath stirring his hair. “Breathe.” A quiet sob shook Des’s body. “Sh-h-h….” Nate gathered him up, wrapping his arms around him. Olivia stroked his hair, tucking a long strand behind his ear.

“Both of you were –” Nate tightened his hold slightly, and Des buried his face into his shoulder as he cried. “And I couldn’t – I don’t know what I would do if – don’t leave me.”

“We’re not going anywhere. We promise.”


	4. Request (Marie & Des): Filthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Des hates cats.

“You disgust me.” Desmond looked down at the white cat, and she looked back up at him, tilting her head slightly. “Hershel took you in just to spite me, didn’t he?”

Marie chirruped, tail flicking behind her, and her eyes narrowed. Des huffed, then stepped into Hershel’s flat. Marie padded after him, giving a loud meow when he nudged her out of the way to place a small bag of wiring and tiny mechanical parts on the table. He scrunched his nose, then pushed up his glasses, noting the white hair stuck to his pants.

“You filthy thing.”

Marie just meowed in response.


	5. Request (Sparrow & Swan): [I] Trusted [You]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swan still hasn't forgotten what Sparrow took from her.

Targent was barren, the stench of death and decay heavy in the air. The only sign of life was the rhythmic click of boots on tile.

Swan knew the way well. She stopped at the door, wavering for a moment. Then, her jaw tightened, and she stepped in.

He was exactly as she left him, pillow still over his face. His fingers were curled, stiff, and the smell alone would have made anyone double over. Swan leaned over him, and her grip on the knife in her hand tightened.

“I trusted you,” her voice was hoarse, frantic, eyes wild. “I trusted you to take care of my little baby and you….” She let out a harsh, shrill shriek, and she plunged her knife into Sparrow’s torso, the flesh giving way easily.

Swan fell to her knees, hand covering her face, and her shoulders shook. No one was around to tell if she was laughing or crying.


	6. Request (Aileene): Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aileene's playing hide and seek.

“Papa – Papa!” Jay turned from the stove for a moment, smiling as Aileene ran up to him.

“What is it?” Aileene turned and looked around quickly, jumping up and down on her feet, before she opened up a small cupboard and crawled inside, shutting it after fumbling with the door for a moment. “Aileene –”

“Shh! Don’t tell Aunt ‘Nary I’m hiding in here,” she said, opening the cupboard a crack to peek at him, finger to her lips, shushing him loudly. Jay nodded, mirroring the motion and winking at his daughter before turning back to the pan on the stove.

“I won’t say a word.”


	7. Request (Canary): Alone, Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan is scared.

The door to her room closed. Susan listened to the heavy footsteps that faded away, trying to quell the shudders that wracked her body. A hand made its way to her face, tracing the tender flesh beneath her eye, and she inhaled sharply.

She drew her legs to her chest, bruised arms wrapping around them, and her good eye never left the door. As she heard the front door open, then close, Susan finally shut her eyes.

Finally, she was alone.


	8. Request (Canary): Dust Motes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canary's had a sleepless night.

Canary opened her eyes after another sleepless night of tossing and turning, nightmares waking her soon after she fell asleep.

The meager light that filtered in through her blinds – the movement of the dust motes catching her attention through her blurred vision – told her that it was early in the morning. She sighed, then reached for her nightstand and grabbed her glasses.

Swinging her legs over the edge of her bed and pushing off, she strode to her door, opening it and stepping out into the quiet home. Her footsteps were nearly silent, movements cautious as she fell back on old habits.

“Canary?” She jumped, head whipping around to the source of the noise.

“… Did I wake you up?” She managed after taking a few deep breaths. Swift shook his head from the couch.

“You’re damn near silent, kid.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Swift looked at her, then patted the seat next to him. “Didn’t sleep either, huh.”

It was a statement, but Canary nodded anyways, feeling anxious as she sat down next to him. “Nightmare?”

“You could say that.” Swift’s hand traced his scar, eyes threatening to glaze over. “Thoughts like to haunt me at night.”

Canary nodded, looking down at the ground before she responded. “… I understand.”


	9. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canary feels trapped in her own mind.

“I-I feel so… trapped.” Canary raised her head from her knees to look up at the night sky, struggling to hold back tears.

She thought she had ran out of tears to cry for herself.

“How so?” Swift asked from beside her.

“I’m not – everything I’ve done since I ran away has felt… _wrong_ , somehow. L-Like I….” Canary’s voice broke; the tears ran freely down her face. She took a shuddering breath, heart racing. “Trapped because of wh-what my parents did to me –” A sob cut her off, loud and shaking her shoulders from the intensity of it. She raised a trembling hand to her face, trying in vain to wipe the tears away. Another sob, quieter, tore itself from her throat.

“Kid – come here, Canary.” Swift wrapped a single arm around her shoulder, holding her in an awkward side embrace. Canary put her knees down, turning her head and burying her face into his shoulder, too pained by her thoughts to react negatively to the touch. Swift hummed, then shushed her gently, tracing comforting circles into her back with his hand. “You’re okay, Canary. I’ve got you – I’ve got you.”


	10. Request (Des/Nate): Too Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We can't be too loud."

Nate hummed as he pulled away from Desmond’s lips, hand moving to cup his face. “We can’t be too loud,” he whispered, and Des nodded, breathing heavy and shuddering. Nate’s fingers trailed over the other’s wounds, placing gentle kisses at the split skin, the dark bruises. He hummed again, taking in Des’s quiet hiss, before he continued. “If we’re doing this, we’re taking it slow.”

Des opened his mouth, as if to protest, then closed it, nodding. “Okay.”


	11. Request (Violet): Comfort Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet doesn't know what her comfort food is.

“What’s that mean?” She asked, tilting her head. Food was just food – was there really such a thing as comfort food?

Nate furrowed his brows, then quickly smoothed his expression. “Do you have a food that makes you happy? We have to stay on the down low, so I thought maybe buying a food you like will make it more bearable.”

Violet bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

“What did you eat before?” Violet could hear the worry underlying his tone, and a tiny frown appeared on his face. “Violet, where did you live before your friend brought you here?”

She looked at the foods on display, her hands clenching together. Luke glanced at them from down the aisle, small bag of biscuits in his hands. “A small flat in….” She suddenly looked around at the other people in the store, then beckoned for Nate to lean down. “…I lived in a flat in Targent.”

Nate tensed, still leaning down. “Is your mum there?”

“…. Mhm.” Violet looked at him, her knuckles white. He placed a hand on her shoulder as tears burned in her eyes. “Nathan, everything is so – new.”

“It’s alright.” Nate looked back at the food on the shelves. “Do you like chocolate?”

“M-Mhm.” Her lips were trembling, anxiety curling in her stomach and making her tremble. “I’m…. scared.”

The hand on her shoulder squeezed, reassuring. “Luke and I are here, and your dad is back at my place. You’re not out here alone.”


	12. Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sanctuary is starting to crumble. Olivia doesn't want to leave Aurora.

“This place is starting to crumble!” Hershel shouted, voice hoarse, rubble raining down on the group as the sanctuary trembled. His eyes were sad, lips in an unreadable line, as he helped Swift to his feet; let the agent lean on him for support. Bronev stood near the center of the room, expression somewhere between baffled and angry. “We need to get out of here now –!”

“Aurora!” Olivia rushed passed Desmond and Nate, grabbing the girl’s hands as she shimmered and sparkled in a golden light. “Come with us.”

She looked up at her, eyes sad and filled with tears. A large stone broke from the ceiling and hit the floor, showering Olivia in pebbles and dust. “This is my fate,” she whispered. “My body will soon cease to function.”

“No – no, sweetie, we’ll find a way. Please, just – come with us, _please_.” Olivia’s voice pitched higher, shrill and panicked. Soft, glowing tears ran down Aurora’s cheeks. They were gone before they hit the floor.

“I wanted to stay with you all longer.” Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. Olivia sank to her knees, stroking Aurora’s hair, brushing it out of her face. “I’m… tired.”

Hands were on Olivia, pulling her away from Aurora before she had the chance to respond. She screamed out Aurora’s name, lunging forwards in a desperate reach for her, only to be pulled back again. Tears ran down her face as Aurora smiled, then her eyes slipped closed; the golden light that had spilled from her body dimmed, then faded.

“We need to get out of here now!” Desmond shouted over the roar of another boulder hitting the ground. “Can you carry her?”

In response, Olivia was scooped up and thrown over Nate’s shoulder. She struggled weakly, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. All she could do was stare at Aurora’s body, mouth open in a silent cry of her name, as she was carried away.


	13. Request (Jay): Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay's dying outside the final room in the Sanctuary.

Gentle hands grabbed Jay’s head and guided it, laying it on someone’s lap. His hand, slick with blood, was pressed on the wound on his chest, desperate to stop the bleeding.

The pain was something he had never experienced before. His body wasn’t sure how to deal with it, either, sweat rolling down his forehead despite the shivers that wracked him. He thought he was going to throw up, vision blurred and dark.

“Breathe,” Swift’s voice sounded far away, soft and gentle. “Just breathe, Jay.”

“….” Jay’s lungs rattled with each pained inhale. He was cold – he was _afraid_. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. The blurred outline of Swift leaned down, and they were brushed away.

“I know – I know you’re scared. Just breathe.”

“Raven,” he whispered. His lungs burned. “I wanna… tell him –” The deep breath he took was agony. “‘Love him.”

“…. Just rest. You’ll be able to tell him soon.”

Jay’s lips twitched slightly, then his eyes finally slipped shut.


	14. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canary's on some new medication.

“Canary, you’re alright – you’re fine.”

“It’s – I’ve never had this happen.” Canary held her hand out, and Swift saw how it trembled. “So lightheaded… dizzy – is this how it feels to be… tired?” She looked over at him, and he noticed the almost glazed look in her eyes, nearly shadowed by her panicked expression.

“That’s just the medication kicking in. It’s helping your mind relax.”

Canary took in a long breath, then sagged, leaning against his shoulder.

“… I don’t like how it feels.”

“I know.” Swift pulled a blanket from the side of the couch, then draped it over Canary. She snuggled into it, staring into the dark room, shaking. “Do you want me to stay out here?”

He felt her hesitate, and he could almost hear her thoughts, mulling over the choice.

“…Please?” She finally whispered.

“You’re gonna be alright, kid.” He pulled her closer. “Just breathe.”


	15. Shoot Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man before Canary has two choices. He can either shoot her and get passed, or turn back.
> 
> He chooses a different option.

Canary stared down the barrel of the gun, eerily still. She met the stranger’s gaze, not once wavering, not blinking as he cocked the pistol in his hand. He snarled at her, the heavy stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Let me through, dammit!” He pressed the gun against her head. The scuffle of children moving around her was deafening. Her heart was pounding, memories flooding her until it was all she could focus on.

“Go ahead.” Her voice was quiet, dazed, and the man faltered. “Shoot me.” She took a minuscule step forward, tilting her head when he staggered away. “It’s what you wanted, right? Shoot me, and you go through. Fair trade.”

The man paled, gun still trained on her. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not afraid of being killed.” Faintly, Canary registered the pain that laced up her arm as she ripped through layers of flesh, desperate to keep herself grounded. She ground her teeth together. “Go ahead, you coward. You have the gun, _shoot me_.”

A flash of movement, and she was on the ground, the man straddling her. Canary flailed her limbs for a moment, blind panic overwhelming her. She didn’t know where she was, who was above her. All she could feel were hands on her body, and pain that was blooming on her face. A startled shriek leapt from her throat, bouncing off the stone walls around them. Someone was yelling at her. She couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Pain burst through her head. Canary felt herself go limp.

….

Canary woke to yelling and cursing, small hands shaking her shoulder. Her eyes slowly slid open, and they stung against the suddenly too bright lights, head pounding. Lillian crouched above her, face pinched in fear.

“Canary?” She whispered, shaking hand pulling back from her shoulder to reveal a bloody rag. “Crow told me to wake you up and get the blood off your face while they got help. That guy beat you up pretty badly.”

She tried to push herself up, and stars danced in her vision. She leaned back again, closing her eyes to keep the room from tilting. She could feel Lillian standing up, tiny footsteps running away. The shouting had stopped, and for a moment, Canary just felt the cool stone beneath her fingers, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible.

“Kid –”

“Canary –” Her head was gently moved onto a lap. Raven’s voice was soft as he gently poked at a bump. “Are ya awake?”

She hissed, body giving a uncontrollable twitch, and Raven pulled his hand away. Canary opened her eyes again; the blurry outlines of Swift and Raven leaning above her.

“God,” Swift breathed, running a hand through Canary’s hair. He almost sounded relieved. “You look like shit.”

Canary’s lips twitched up slightly, and she reached for her face to push her glasses up. Her fingers only brushed against her bruised nose.

“He broke yer glasses.” Raven grabbed her hand. “I think your nose is broken – it’s a good thing your eyes didn’t ge’ anythin’ in them, either, but you migh’ have a concussion – can you carry her, Swift?”

“‘Course.”


	16. Request (Jay & Hersh): Too Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel is beginning to snap under the pressure at Targent.

Jay frowned as he watched Sparrow walk down the hall. Canary refused to look up from the ground, eyes half lidded and glassy; the soft whimpers of the professor they were guarding floated in the air between them.

The agent sighed, wringing his hands together as he thought about what to do. He finally peered into the cell. The professor had a hand cupped over his ear, and a thin stream of blood had trickled down his neck from an apparent wound. Worried that Sparrow had cut his ear, Jay cleared his throat, watching both Canary and the professor jerk their heads up in surprise.

“Professor,” he started, voice quiet. “Are you alright? Is something wrong with your ear?”

“The sound,” he started, then cleared his throat. “It’s too loud.”

“What sound?” Jay asked. Canary had turned, peeking into the cell.

“It hurts.” His fingers dug into the side of his head, expression twitching. “Please make it stop.”


	17. Request (Hershel): Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel comes to after collapsing in Mossinia.

“Professor, how’re you feeling?” Luke poked his head into the room, giving a sheepish but hopeful smile. The professor poked up his head, blinking away sleep from his eyes.

Ever since he had collapsed in Mossinia, nearly everyone had been checking on him. He figured it was only a matter of time before Luke did so, as well.

“Tired,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. Luke hummed, then stepped into the room, wringing his hands together. He wouldn’t meet the professor’s eyes.

“They wouldn’t let me see you.”

“It was for a good reason, my boy.” Hersh held out a hand when he saw the tears beginning to brim in his friend’s eyes. “Luke, come here.”

Luke sniffed, then lurched forward, embracing Hershel and wrapping his arms around his neck. The professor let out a surprised ‘oof’, then hugged him back.

“You’ve been doing so bad, I thought I….”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”


	18. Request (Des & Marie): Pet-sitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel wants Des to watch the cats.

“Why do I need to watch her again?” Desmond grumbled, looking down at the white cat in front of him. “She can take care of herself.”

Hershel adjusted his hat, then his coat, giving an apologetic smile. Alfendi clung to his leg, looking up at Desmond with large eyes. “She just had her kittens. I’m just worried that something might happen to them while I’m gone.” Desmond grumbled again, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hershel’s smile fell into a knowing frown, guilt flashing across his expression. “I can always find someone else to watch her. I know how much you dislike cats.”

Desmond looked up at Hershel. Marie meowed, stood, then padded out of the living room. “It’s not – I just don’t see the point. She isn’t ill, is she?”

“No, no. She’s perfectly healthy.” Hershel thought for a moment, quirking his head to the side. “It’s not her I’m worried about. There’s just a couple of kittens that haven’t been doing very well.”

“I see.” He suddenly understood why Hershel had seemed so adamant about someone watching the animals. “I’ll keep an eye on them. You won’t be gone long, right?”

“Shouldn’t take that long for the doctor to check on my ear.” His hand snaked up to his ear. “They just want to see if the surgery did what it was supposed to.”

“Can you _hear_?” Hershel tapped his ear, then slowly shook his head.

“Muffled. Not as well as I used to.” Alfendi tugged on Hershel’s pants. He looked down, then picked him up. “What is it?”

“Will the doctors take you away again?”

“No. You’ll be able to stay with me the entire time.” A pause. “And then we could go out for a treat, if you want.”

Alfendi gave a pinched smile, tiny hands bunching in Hershel’s coat. “Okay.”

“You sure you’re alright with watching her?” Desmond nodded.

“I’m alright.”

“You can always invite Olivia and Nathan over.”

“They said they had important things to do.” Hershel’s eyebrow rose. “Liv’s getting back into painting seriously, and Nate’s working on something important.”

“Alright.” Hershel looked at the clock on his wall. “I’m gonna head out.” He walked past Desmond, placing Alfendi on the ground as he opened the door.

A lopsided smirk appeared on Desmond’s face as he called out: “Have fun!” The responding look he got nearly made him laugh.

—–

It wasn’t long before Marie appeared again, meowing and rubbing against Desmond’s leg as he sat at the kitchen table. He looked away from the small robot he was working on (for Alfendi, the kid needed more than just toy cars). Marie sat down, looking up at him expectantly.

“What?” He asked before he could stop himself. Marie chirped, then brushed up against him again. “You know I don’t like that.” He turned back to the partly assembled robot, grabbing a small screwdriver.

Marie’s response was to jump on the table. Desmond growled, pushing her away. She pushed up against him, giving an indignant meow. He nearly slammed the screwdriver on the table, looking up at the white cat.

“I am _not_ doing this with you.” She batted at his hair. He stood up. “ _Stop_ that.”

Marie jumped down from the table, meowing and walking towards Hershel’s room. When Desmond didn’t follow, she padded back up to him, meowing loudly.

“What do you want from me?” Another loud meow, then Marie started back towards Hershel’s room, glancing back at him. Desmond’s brows finally knitted together, taking a step towards her. “Is something wrong?”

“Mrow!” She disappeared into the room. Desmond followed, watching as Marie jumped up onto Hershel’s nightstand.

The kittens were on Hershel’s bed, moving and meowing. Marie looked over, purred, but didn’t move. Desmond got closer to her.

“Your babies are over there.” She looked back up at him. “Aren’t they?” She looked in the small space between the nightstand and the wall, then purred.

Desmond finally understood. He picked Marie up carefully, then sat her on the bed. He pulled away the nightstand, then looked around. A small, grey kitten shivered, giving a small meow. Desmond carefully scooped them up, then placed them on the blanket. Marie was on them immediately, licking them and chirping.

“…I’m glad you told me.”


	19. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wakes up to find that Swift isn't in bed.

Bucky woke even before the first rays of light bled into the bedroom. For a while, he just remained still, blinking away sleep and feeling the cool sheets underneath his fingers. Turning on the bedside lamp and grabbing the clock, he squinted at it for a minute.

Four in the morning.

Placing the clock back down, Bucky frowned, rubbing at his face. This was early, even for him. Nothing really happened until around six, and even then, it was slow. He turned, hoping he could at least hold Swift’s hand before he tried to fall asleep again.

His eyes landed on the other side of the bed, vacant. Confusion – and though he wouldn’t admit it, panic – settled over him, and he took a deep breath before rolling to push himself off the bed. Only then did he notice the faint light from the hallway; a soft smile made its way onto his face. He made sure to be as quiet as possible walking past Waverly and Canary’s room on his way to the living room.

Swift was sitting on the couch, Fluffy curled around his shoulders. He was looking down at his lap, and Bucky realized it was Canary, curled up on the couch and her head resting on Swift’s legs. She was sleeping, remnants of tear tracks on her splotchy face – her breathing, though even, was still choppy and wet. Swift ran a gentle hand through her hair, and Bucky stepped forward.

“She had a nightmare,” Swift said as way of greeting. Fluffy opened her eyes and raised her head, sniffing as she caught sight of Bucky, then lowered her head again, sighing. “She woke me up in the middle of an anxiety attack. Thought she was back there.” He finally looked up at Bucky, giving a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not Targent. She told me Targent was better than where she was before.”

Bucky frowned, glancing at the girl on Swift’s lap, before taking the few steps to stand by his side. Swift looked up at him, tears burning in his eyes.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“So much.” Swift looked back down at Canary. “Why are people so mean?”

“Because they learned to be that way.” Bucky knelt down next to Swift, grabbing his hand over the arm of the couch. They sat in silence for a while, listening to Canary’s breathing quiet further. “How long have you been out here?”

“Dunno.” A pause. “Don’t really care, either. She wanted me to help her.”

“Hm.” Bucky squeezed his hand, reassuring. “You worry too much, love.”

A sharp huff. “About what?” Bucky could hear the tired smile in his voice.

“Not being a good enough dad.”

“Never really had one. I have nothing to look back on.”

“You don’t need to have a father to be a good one.” Bucky shifted and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I mean, my father and I never met eye to eye on things, either.”

“I feel like that’s a different thing.” Swift gripped his hand. “You had a father. You learned from his examples, and knew what you didn’t want to do if you became one – mine left the second he knew I was on the way.”

“I know, hon, I know.” Bucky smiled. “And you haven’t left a single person you thought could be helped. You’re more of a father than he ever would’ve been.”

“I –” Canary twitched, grumbled, and shifted on Swift’s lap. He looked down at her, and brushed the stray strands of hair from her face. She grumbled again, something unintelligible tumbling from her lips, and he shushed her gently. “It’s alright, Canary.” She raised her head up slightly, pushing up her glasses and rubbing an eye.

“Didn’ mean t’ fall ‘sleep.” Her voice was hoarse. Fluffy poked her head up again and gave a soft chirrup. Swift pulled his hand away from Bucky’s, stroking the fur on her nose.

“I know. It’s late, and you’re tired. You can go back to sleep. I don’t mind.”

Canary took a deep breath, then laid her head back down. Bucky saw Swift smile as he started carding Canary’s hair through his fingers. He saw her stiffen, then relax, body twitching slightly.

She wasn’t used to relaxing completely. Swift laid his head back against the back of the couch, closing his eyes and sighing. After a moment of silence, Swift spoke.

“You too, love. I’ll be alright.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm.” Bucky got to his feet, and leaned over the couch to plant a kiss on Swift’s forehead.

“Goodnight.”

“'Night.”


	20. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canary forgot she had surgery.

Canary woke in a mess of tangled blankets, cold sweat rolling down her face. Her body trembled; an odd sort of pain settling in her chest and she couldn’t breathe. She sat upright, shaky hand over her chest, and she took in gasping, gulping breaths, jaw slack as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her other hand curled around her mess of blankets, hand hurting from how hard she was holding the fabric.

She was disoriented, terror gripping her the longer she sat there with seemingly no change. Was – was this a heart attack? Oh, God, that’s what it had to be. Tears ran down her face despite her attempts to calm her thoughts; her heart pounded and her chest hurt and _she couldn’t breathe_.

Untangling herself completely, she leaned heavily against the wall, legs dangling over the bunk bed. She swallowed.

“Wave,” she whimpered, voice choked. “Waverly.” The longer she went without an answer, the more panic bubbled up her throat. “ _Waverly_!” It was hard to keep her voice level. Her hand shifted over her chest, and a hot flash of pain nearly made her sob. She pressed herself against the wall, tears streaking down her face.

“…Nary?” A sleepy voice finally called. A few moments later, blond hair peeked itself over the edge of the bunk bed, followed by a pair of blue eyes, hazy from sleep. “‘Sup…?”

“My chest hurts.” Waverly blinked a few times, then quickly climbed up next to her. A hand wavered above hers, unsure.

“…Did you pull at your stitching?” They asked slowly. “Dad and Pops said to be careful, remember?”

“I…?”

“Do you remember where you are?” Waverly grabbed at the hand over her chest, holding it tightly. “You probably woke up from a nightmare and had a panic attack. ’S alright. Happens to me, too – had Dad to help me through those.”

Canary took a deep breath, looking into Waverly’s eyes. “We’re at Dad and Pops’s house,” she answered, mind whirling and chest burning. “I… need some pain meds.”

Waverly smiled, reassuring. Canary felt herself mirroring the motion. “'Course.”


	21. Request (Emmy & Owl): Overgrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmy goes out to Owl's garden for the first time after Owl's death.

Owl’s garden wasn’t as overgrown as Emmy thought it would be. Sure, there were more weeds, and the plants that Owl had so carefully trimmed were starting to need another round of cutting, but Emmy had expected everything to be wild when she stepped into the garden.

Then again, it had only been a week since Owl had passed away. The garden still needed more time before it truly became out of control. She wandered through the rows of carefully spaced tomato and pepper plants, wondering if they needed to be picked yet. She leaned down, old scar from her burn tingling, as she gently stroked a leaf.

“Miss her, too?” Emmy swallowed past the lump in her throat, and nodded. Waverly placed a hand on her shoulder. She could feel them looking around the garden, picking out things needed to be done. “Dad’s barely left his room since the funeral.”

“Swift hasn’t?” She sounded far away. They nodded.

“Mhm. Don’t think he’s been taking care of himself.” Waverly’s voice lowered. “Canary hasn’t been doing very well either, she’s – she’s shut herself away completely.”

“Have you tried getting Jay to help her? Marion?”

“Yeah.” Waverly shifted, then kneeled down, placing a small tote bag on the ground. With a small pair of gardening scissors in their hand, they began trimming the tomato plant in front of them. “She’ll do things when prompted, she just – she’s just acting as if she’s…. I can’t explain it.” It sounded like Waverly was fighting to keep their voice steady. “And Dad, he can’t help her right now, either.”

Emmy frowned, then knelt next to them, placing a hand on theirs. “I’m sorry.”

Waverly didn’t say anything, but their lip trembled as they snipped another stray vine. Emmy’s hand moved to land on their shoulder.

“Bucky…?” For a while, Waverly didn’t answer.

“Been working himself thin to make sure Canary and Dad’re still living.” Another snip. “He focuses more on Dad, though. At least Canary still eats when prompted – sometimes.” Waverly looked at the ripe tomatoes, then decided to pick them, placing them in the tote bag at his side. “I’ve tried to… uh, I’ve tried to take my mind off of everything by taking care of my flowers. It doesn’t help.” Plant now done, they set about pulling up the weeds around it. “…I-I normally have Canary sit with me, y'know? Maybe just sitting with the flowers will help.” They were rambling, weeds now forgotten. Emmy listened. “I… I try to talk with her, but she doesn’t – she isn’t all there – I wake up to her crying a-and – and nothing I do _helps_ , and, and Pops is too busy trying to take care of Dad, and –” A sob tore itself from Waverly’s throat, and they rubbed at their eyes as they seemed to shrink in on themselves.

“Waverly.” Emmy was crying, too. “Wave, c'mere.” Emmy wrapped an arm around their torso, and Waverly sunk into her, sniffling and breathing wet. Hot tears soaked into her shirt. “We all miss her.” A quiet sob was her response. Emmy looked at the trimmed tomato plant in front of her. “People’re still recovering.”

“I’m _scared_ –”

“I know – it’s okay.” Emmy rubbed their arm. “It’s okay.”


	22. Request: Device Removal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel gets that device removed from his ear.

“Don’t move, Professor.” Desmond’s hands kept Hershel’s head still and tilted to the side as Nate leaned over him. “We don’t want to damage your ear more than it already is.” Emmy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, shining a light into his ear.

Hershel jolted. Though Nate was trying to be as gentle as possible, the tweezers scraped against the inside of his ear and caused sharp lances of pain to stab through his head. Nate made a soft noise, tilting his head. His eyes narrowed slightly, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“There’s a lot of blood in here,” he said. “It’s holding the device in.”

“Well, get it out.” Emmy’s hand on Hershel’s shoulder tightened. Nate met Desmond’s eyes, a silent question burning in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“But –”

“Nate.” Des’s voice dropped. “We don’t know what it is. Targent could be tracking us.”

“We don’t know that. And the blood in his ear doesn’t make any sense.”

“They could have shoved it in there and damaged something.” Desmond’s eyes sharpened, pupils constricting. “I don’t care if it could be something else. It could also be a tracker for them to find us – do you not understand that?”

Nate pursed his lips. “….I understand.” Nate looked back down into Hersh’s ear, scraping away the crusted blood as best he could and brushing it out of his ear. Hershel jerked, shout dying in his throat, as Desmond’s hands pressed down harder on his head. His breaths became ragged, wrists and legs straining against the rope that bounded him to the chair.

“Professor Sycamore, I think we should stop,” Emmy tried. “There wasn’t any type of tracking device small enough to fit in somebody’s ear – there couldn’t be –”

“We are getting this damn device out of _my brother’s ear_ ,” he snarled. “I’ll do it myself if you two don’t _stop_.”

The room fell silent, Emmy opening her mouth as if to say something more before closing it again. Nate continued when Desmond nodded at him.

Scraping in his ear again. The device in Hershel’s ear gave a loud shriek of static and feedback, and the professor gave a sharp cry in response. His ear protested against the sudden noise, and Nate paused, eyes flitting up to Desmond’s momentarily, before he continued. The device went quiet. Hershel didn’t even know he had tensed up until he relaxed, tears slowly rolling across his face and over his nose.

Nate grabbed at the device, then pulled it. Hershel jerked as a few chunks of dried blood was pulled with it, and Nate lost his grip on it. It gave another shriek, the pain coming to a crest.

He was going to throw up. Hershel took shallow breaths, closing his eyes tightly and fighting back a gag.

“Try to stay still, Professor,” Nate muttered, and he got a hold on the device again.

“We’ve almost got it,” Emmy added. “A little bit longer, okay?”

Hershel fought back another gag as Nate finally pulled it out of his ear. Desmond’s hold on his head finally released, and the bound professor started to struggle even more, bile burning at the back of his throat and _he needed to get out of there_.

Emmy was already working on untying him. Desmond took the small device from Nate and looked at it closely, not caring about the little pieces of blood still caked on it. Hershel lurched from his seat as soon as he was free – one hand covering his mouth, the other covering his ear – as he stumbled from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be in the actual story but I'm not sure so I'm sticking it here.


	23. Request (Sparrow): Alone, Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow has come to teach Raven a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful, there's **transphobia/misgendering** in this very short chapter.

“You know, you’ve been a real pain in the ass to get alone.” Owl and Jay leaving couldn’t have been more perfect. Raven shrunk back, eyes wide and wild, gaze darting towards the door. “If you want to try and outrun me, be my guest. I’ll get you eventually.”

Finally, he had gotten Raven alone, and he wasn’t letting _her_ get away without letting _her_ know how foolish _she_ was acting.


	24. Request (Emmy & Hershel): Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel is recovering.

“How is he?”

Dana shook her head at the group. “Stable. You are lucky we have the technologies here that we do, or he’d be dead.”

Emmy swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“He has a nasty infection. It started in the inner ear, then spread to his brain.” Desmond shrunk in on himself, biting his lip. “Based on your explanation of what happened… it’s safe to say he was afraid to tell you he wasn’t feeling well.”

Nate rose to his feet, mumbled out an apology, then left. Dana watched him leave.

“He looked positively _green_.” Desmond rose next.

“I’ll go after him.”

“Dana?” The elder looked at her. “Can I see him?”

“…I don’t see why not.”

—

The room was dark. A few candles sent feeble light through the room, Hershel’s skin tinted a sickly yellow. An assortment of medicines were spread on the nightstand. Emmy listened to the Professor’s breaths, rattling and shaky, before she sat down next to him

“I’m sorry,” was all she said. Hershel didn’t respond.


	25. Request (Des): [I] trusted [you]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond arrives at Nate's place, and Nate has some questions.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The professor’s labored breathing filled the silence between them, and Desmond shifted from one leg to the other, wincing as a wound was stretched. Nate blinked at him (or at least, Desmond thought he was blinking), seemingly stunned.

“Hey,” Desmond finally said, voice hoarse from disuse. Nate breathed out, body sagging with relief. “Can you get me a pair of glasses?”

“How -- where did you come from?”

“Not important now.” Desmond leaned down to hoist the professor on his shoulder again, wounds protesting. “Trust me on that.”


	26. Request (Luke): Sated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond, Violet, and Luke have a tea party.

Desmond leveled him with a smile that was obviously forced. “Luke. You’ve appeared to have missed. The tea cup.”

Sated, Luke sat back down in his chair, taking a large gulp of cool tea. Violet stared at the two for a minute, then reached for her cup, raising it to her lips to hide her smile.


	27. Request (Raven): Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's on his period, and Swift takes him to Owl.

“Owl?” Swift called as he walked into the medical wing. A comforting arm was slung around Raven’s shoulders, keeping him close. Owl poked her head from around a doorframe.

“Huh?”

“I was checking in on the new arrivals.” Swift nudged Raven forward, and he stumbled a bit, dizzy. “He’s in pain. Wouldn’t go into detail down there.” His voice lowered. “I think Sparrow’s been picking on them.”

Owl frowned. “Well, that won’t do at all.” She pushed her glasses up her nose before looking at Raven, smiling. Oddly enough, he felt comforted in her questioning gaze. “What’s bothering you?”

Raven felt his face flushing as he looked at his shoes. “I-I.” He swallowed. “Cramps.”

The short pause felt like an eternity. “What kind of pain killers do you prefer? We have a few -- actually, come with me. Let’s get you comfortable -- do you like tea? We can also get you a few blankets.”

Raven’s head shot up, shocked. “What about…?” Swift placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll tell Sparrow you’re sick. He gives you any trouble, come to me.”

“....” Raven felt tears pricking in his eyes. “Thank you.”


	28. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond and Hershel make it to Nate's house.

Desmond pounded on the door, trying to see through the window of frosted glass on Nate’s front door. He glanced at the professor, who was practically motionless on the ground. It was obvious he was exhausted. Desmond himself ached, straining himself to bring the professor back with him while he was wounded. He knew a few bullet wounds had at least been stretched, or reopened at worst.

The door opened a crack. Desmond turned in time to see (a rather blurry) Nate staring at him, something dangling at his side. A wave of relief crashed over him, and he felt what little strength he had leaving him. Nate’s grip on the item slackened, a slow breath leaving him. Desmond watched as Nate placed it to the side, and the door opened wider.

He was suddenly being crushed in a hug. Nate grasped at him, breathing shaky, hand tangling in greasy hair and holding him tighter than Desmond had ever remembered being held. Desmond felt himself grasping back, clawing at Nate’s back and burying his face in Nate’s shoulder.

“God, Des….,” Nate mumbled, then pulled away to look at him. A hand brushed his cheek. “I thought you were – you look _terrible_.”

Desmond closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to sink into Nate’s arms, to allow himself to finally rest. However, he opened his eyes, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“Glasses,” he croaked. Nate tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“I need my glasses.” Nate laughed – he sounded so relieved – and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s get you inside.” Desmond stepped back.

“We have someone else.” Nate looked down at the Professor.

“Is that –”

“Unfortunately.” Nate knelt down. “He got dragged into everything.”

“He looks worse than you do.” Nate stood back up. “What _happened_?”

“Not now.” Desmond didn’t want to relive what had happened just yet. “Let’s get him cleaned up.”

Nate grabbed the professor’s legs, and Desmond moved to grab his arms. Lifting him up, they moved him into the house.

“Spare bedroom?” Nate asked.

“Spare bedroom.” They moved him up the stairs, and Nate nudged the door to the spare bedroom opened. The professor groaned, moving a bit, and Nate had to readjust his grip a bit. As he did so, the professor’s eyes shot open, and he jerked. Desmond lost his grip, and he fell to the ground with a quiet, hoarse ‘oof’.

“Shit.” Desmond knelt down as Hershel rubbed his head, movements sluggish. “Don’t move.” He looked up at Nate. “Actually, how about we get him in the bathroom?”

“Why not let him rest?”

“He needs to get clean.” The image of that agent touching Hershel’s cheek, turning the professor’s face towards his, came to mind. Desmond could only imagine how he felt. Nate didn’t answer for a long moment. “Get my glasses and I’ll try to get him in the bathroom.”

“Oh – right, right.” Nate walked down the hallway. Desmond looked down at the professor.

“Layton, can you stand up?” Hershel stared up at him. Desmond frowned. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “Come on – say something, give me an answer.”

He still didn’t answer. Desmond pushed the hot bubble of frustration down.

“Look, Layton. We’re both hurting and I want to know if you can make it to the bathroom by yourself. We’re going to get you clean, and then you can rest.”

Desmond could have sworn Hershel paled a little bit. He rolled to his side, winced, and curled up, shivering. Nate came back down the hall, and passed Desmond’s glasses to him. He blinked a few times after putting them on, not used to seeing so clearly. He looked back down at Hershel.

“He’s not answering me,” he told Nate. Now that he could see, he could see the crusted blood on Hershel’s exposed ear, red and inflammed beyond a shadow of a doubt. It looked like it hurt like hell.

“I can’t say I blame him.” Nate ghosted a finger over the ear; the professor flinched hard. He jumped, jerking his hand away. “He’s hurting, and needs rest. I don’t care about the bedding – it’s all old anyways. We can at least get him into clean clothes and give him some pain killers.”

“He’s _gross_.”

“Yeah, and so are you.” Nate’s lips turned up into a wry smile. “Come on, let’s get the professor changed and then let’s take care of you.” He looked down at Hershel. “Professor, can you help us get you into the room?”

Hershel uncurled a little bit, breathing almost imperceptible. Finally, he nodded. Nate gently touched his shoulder, and helped him rise to his feet. His knees buckled after he had fully risen to his feet; Nate caught him. Hershel grimaced. Nate turned his attention to Desmond.

“Draw a bath for yourself. Towels are where they normally are.” He smiled. “Tell me if you need any help.”

Desmond huffed a laugh out of his nose. “I’ll be fine.” He ached, the wounds that had been stretched were burning. Still, he got to his feet, and made his way to the bathroom.


	29. Request (Bostonius Gang): Sunbathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang arrives in San Grio.

The sky was clear when the Bostonius landed in San Grio. Nate leaned away from the steering wheel, rubbing his eyes. Violet bounded up the stairs, looking out the large window. She leaned closer, bouncing a bit on her feet.

“ _Wow_!” She gasped. “Mum, _look_!” Emmy walked up the stairs to look out the window with her, Aurora and Luke not far behind. Olivia rose to her feet, hand bracing against her leg.

“This is the location of the next egg?” Emmy looked at Nate. He nodded.

“Should be.”

“…Are you alright?” Emmy tilted her head. “You look exhausted – is it because of the Professor?” Nate’s eyes flitted away.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, then stood up. “I’m gonna go tell Desmond that we’ve landed.”

Emmy watched as Nate made his way to the small hallway. “…Liv?”

“Hm?” She looked at her, hand on Violet’s shoulder as she pointed excitedly at the ocean.

“Nathan isn’t doing so well.”

Olivia’s lips pursed. “I wouldn’t blame him. He’s dealing with a lot right now.”

“Miss Emmy?” Aurora tapped on her shoulder. “What’re… those people on the sand doing?”

Emmy looked back out the window. “Ah, those people on the beach towels?”

“Mhm. They’re just laying there.”

“They’re sunbathing.” Emmy caught the confused look on Aurora’s face. “Er, they’re trying to get a tan. Y’know, make their skin darker.”

“… I see.” Aurora looked at her skin. “Does it stay dark?”

“No, it goes away after a while.”

“Could we try that?” Violet looked up at her mom. Olivia smiled, rubbing Violet’s shoulder.

“Once we’re done with this trip, I’ll try to convince your papa. Does that sound good?” Violet nodded.


	30. Request (Adult Luke and Des): Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke visits Desmond's family with Professor Layton and his kids.

Luke didn’t know what he was expecting when he decided to go with the Professor and his family to visit the Sycamores. Flora bounced up and down slightly, excited to see everyone else, as Hershel knocked on the door. Alfendi, the tight schedule he was on, glanced at his watch every now and again, hair falling in his face. His earbuds were already in. Katrielle was standing next to Luke, smiling.

“Aunt Liv always makes the best desserts,” she had told him on the way. Luke didn’t doubt it – but he had been gone for a while. He wasn’t sure how he’d be received. Sweat gathered on his brow as Violet opened the door. Her face was bright. She looked like she hadn’t changed at all. She held the door open, turning her head to call over her shoulder.

“Mum, they’re here!” She turned back. “Come in, Dad and Papa are out in the shop.”

“Ah, I see,” Hershel said, stepping in. “Thank you very much, Violet.”

“It’s no problem, Uncle Hersh. Really.” The Layton kids filed in. Violet caught sight of Luke as Alfendi stepped in. “Luke! How have you been?”

Luke found himself smiling. “I’ve been alright – how’s Nova? You’ve told me a lot about her.”

“She’s doing great! Definitely not as bad as when we first got her.” As if on cue, Nova came trotting up to the pair. “Nova, this is Luke.”

“Oh?” Nova sniffed Luke’s pants. He reached down to pet her. “You mean the one that doesn’t like Papa?”

“I’m sure he’s forgiven him. It’s been a long time, right Luke?”

“Oh – I’m not mad at him anymore. He’s been helpful in a couple of me and Marina’s cases.”

“ _Just_ helpful?” Desmond walked into the entrance hallway, rubbing his oily hands on a paper towel. “You wound me, Triton.”

Both of them were smiling. “Hello to you too, Professor.”


	31. Request (Des, Hersh, and Bronev): Total Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bronev is overjoyed that Hershel and Desmond have been brought to Targent.

“The chances of us succeeding in our plans has never been higher!” Bronev paced back and forth, looking absolutely delighted. “Both professors are very capable of helping us solve this mystery, and I have _total control_ over them!”

Swift bit his cheek. “With all due respect, Boss, it will only work if they talk –”

“Oh, they’ll talk.” Bronev stopped, slamming his hands down on his desk with a sneer. “I’m sure they will.”

Sycamore had barely spoken a word since being brought in. Layton appeared to have found the locations by dumb luck. Swift doubted they’d talk through the methods Bronev enforced. Still, he raised his head and nodded.

“Of course, Boss.”


	32. Request (Olivia, Luke, Aurora): Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia, Luke, and Aurora talk a little after Hoogland's mystery has been solved.

“You know,” Luke started, “when there isn’t weird rituals going on here, Hoogland is actually pretty nice.”

“Yes.” Aurora looked out over the rolling hills of green, her hair blowing around in the breeze. “I’m glad we could help the people here.”

Olivia nodded, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She looked around, seemingly lost in thought. Luke tilted his head.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked. Olivia blinked a few times.

“…I’m not sure.”


	33. Request (Emmy, Luke, Des, Hershel): Flinders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel is caught chewing on a pencil again.

“Professor, you’re chewing on your pencil again.” Hershel paused, feeling the wooden pencil’s flinders stuck between his teeth. Luke was staring at him, concerned. He took the pencil from his lips and stared at it.

“…It appears I have.”

“Hershel, maybe you should switch to a pen.” Desmond carefully took it from him and flicked it into the garbage. His expression was carefully guarded. Hershel knew why. “It wouldn’t do to have chunks of wood in between your teeth.”

“I’ll have to agree with you there, Professor Sycamore.” Emmy crossed her arms. “Probably doesn’t taste very good, either. And there might be a risk of lead poisoning.”

“Pencils aren’t made of lead, Emmy.”

“But he might get sick!”

“Highly doubtful.” Desmond pushed his glasses up his nose. “Just say it’ll make you feel better.”

Emmy huffed. Hershel gave a small laugh.


	34. Parenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmy crashes into a cactus patch after getting her first motorbike.

“Owl?” Swift poked his head into the room. She looked up from the book she was reading (how to care for plants – someone got her a nice tomato plant a couple of days ago, and she wasn’t about to let it die, thank you very much). She frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

Swift stepped into the room, gently guiding Emmy into the room. “Er, Boss got her a motorbike to help her on missions once she’s able to go out.” Scrapes and cuts littered her arms and legs, along with white spines covering them and her face (thank god none had gotten into her eyes – she must have blocked them), dark eyes shiny with tears. “She got a bit too adventurous when testing it out, and took a nasty spill into a cactus patch. Brought her here right away.”

Owl stood up, placing her book on her chair before crossing the room in a few quick steps. She knelt down, gently grabbing an arm to look it over. Emmy hiccuped, hot tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “You’re okay, Emmy.”

“I-It was _embarrassing_ ,” Emmy muttered, voice choked. “A-And Uncle Leon _laughed_ at m-me, and it hurt s-so bad –” Her voice broke, bottom lip quivering and face red.

“Sh… you’re okay, sweetie.” Owl smiled, face burning with tears herself. “I know it hurt. We’ll get you some hot tea after we take care of these spines and scrapes.” She looked up at Swift. “Do you have anywhere to go right away?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you think you can help me for a little bit?” Emmy was still sniffling, head bowed. Tears plopped onto the floor. “You don’t have to, but it might help her feel a little better.” Swift’s lips pursed; he looked like he was lost in thought. Finally, he nodded.

“I don’t see why not.”


	35. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens right after Desmond arrives to Nate's home with Hersh in tow.

Desmond pounded on the door, trying to see through the window of frosted glass on Nate’s front door. He glanced at the professor, who was practically motionless on the ground. It was obvious he was exhausted. Desmond himself ached, straining himself to bring the professor back with him while he was wounded. He knew a few bullet wounds had at least been stretched, or reopened at worst.

The door opened a crack. Desmond turned in time to see (a rather blurry) Nate staring at him, something dangling at his side. A wave of relief crashed over him, and he felt what little strength he had leaving him. Nate’s grip on the item slackened, a slow breath leaving him. Desmond watched as Nate placed it to the side, and the door opened wider.

He was suddenly being crushed in a hug. Nate grasped at him, breathing shaky, hand tangling in greasy hair and holding him tighter than Desmond had ever remembered being held. Desmond felt himself grasping back, clawing at Nate’s back and burying his face in Nate’s shoulder.

“God, Des….,” Nate mumbled, then pulled away to look at him. A hand brushed his cheek. “I thought you were – you look _terrible_.”

Desmond closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to sink into Nate’s arms, to allow himself to finally rest. However, he opened his eyes, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“Glasses,” he croaked. Nate tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“I need my glasses.” Nate laughed – he sounded so relieved – and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s get you inside.” Desmond stepped back.

“We have someone else.” Nate looked down at the Professor.

“Is that –”

“Unfortunately.” Nate knelt down. “He got dragged into everything.”

“He looks worse than you do.” Nate stood back up. “What _happened_?”

“Not now.” Desmond didn’t want to relive what had happened just yet. “Let’s get him cleaned up.”

Nate grabbed the professor’s legs, and Desmond moved to grab his arms. Lifting him up, they moved him into the house.

“Spare bedroom?” Nate asked.

“Spare bedroom.” They moved him up the stairs, and Nate nudged the door to the spare bedroom opened. The professor groaned, moving a bit, and Nate had to readjust his grip a bit. As he did so, the professor’s eyes shot open, and he jerked. Desmond lost his grip, and he fell to the ground with a quiet, hoarse ‘oof’.

“Shit.” Desmond knelt down as Hershel rubbed his head, movements sluggish. “Don’t move.” He looked up at Nate. “Actually, how about we get him in the bathroom?”

“Why not let him rest?”

“He needs to get clean.” The image of that agent touching Hershel’s cheek, turning the professor’s face towards his, came to mind. Desmond could only imagine how he felt. Nate didn’t answer for a long moment. “Get my glasses and I’ll try to get him in the bathroom.”

“Oh – right, right.” Nate walked down the hallway. Desmond looked down at the professor.

“Layton, can you stand up?” Hershel stared up at him. Desmond frowned. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “Come on – say something, give me an answer.”

He still didn’t answer. Desmond pushed the hot bubble of frustration down.

“Look, Layton. We’re both hurting and I want to know if you can make it to the bathroom by yourself. We’re going to get you clean, and then you can rest.”

Desmond could have sworn Hershel paled a little bit. He rolled to his side, winced, and curled up, shivering. Nate came back down the hall, and passed Desmond’s glasses to him. He blinked a few times after putting them on, not used to seeing so clearly. He looked back down at Hershel.

“He’s not answering me,” he told Nate. Now that he could see, he could see the crusted blood on Hershel’s exposed ear, red and inflammed beyond a shadow of a doubt. It looked like it hurt like hell.

“I can’t say I blame him.” Nate ghosted a finger over the ear; the professor flinched hard. He jumped, jerking his hand away. “He’s hurting, and needs rest. I don’t care about the bedding – it’s all old anyways. We can at least get him into clean clothes and give him some pain killers.”

“He’s _gross_.”

“Yeah, and so are you.” Nate’s lips turned up into a wry smile. “Come on, let’s get the professor changed and then let’s take care of you.” He looked down at Hershel. “Professor, can you help us get you into the room?”

Hershel uncurled a little bit, breathing almost imperceptible. Finally, he nodded. Nate gently touched his shoulder, and helped him rise to his feet. His knees buckled after he had fully risen to his feet; Nate caught him. Hershel grimaced. Nate turned his attention to Desmond.

“Draw a bath for yourself. Towels are where they normally are.” He smiled. “Tell me if you need any help.”

Desmond huffed a laugh out of his nose. “I’ll be fine.” He ached, the wounds that had been stretched were burning. Still, he got to his feet, and made his way to the bathroom.


	36. Letters to Olivia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raymond tells Desmond to write letters to Olivia to try and help them cope with her and Violet's death.

_Olivia,_

_Raymond recommended I try and write to you. It feels stupid to write to the dead, but he says it’ll help me work through some things._

_I’ll never admit it to him, he’ll never let me live it down otherwise, but what he says is usually right._

_I miss you. I miss Violet. Every single day I’m reminded of what I’ve lost. It’s selfish of me, but I have been… planning. I want to avenge you and our daughter. Do something that will make the ache in my heart go away._

_Remember Jean Descole? I’m going to use him to help me find the Azran legacies. Letting Targent win would make your deaths be in vain, and anyone standing in my way will be taken care of._

_Liv,_

_I wonder if you’d be repulsed at what I’ve done. Who I’ve become. I can hardly recognize myself in the mirror anymore. The only thing that’s stayed constant is these godforsaken eyes. I wish I could claw them out._

_Sometimes Raymond looks at me as if he doesn’t know me._

_Liv,_

_Sometimes I can’t forget, no matter what I do. I’m scarred. Used. Worn down. A broken husk of a man._

_Sometimes I still hear you and Violet.  
Sometimes I still see you._

_Would you still love me?_

_Liv,_

_Forgive me._

_Liv,_

_There’s someone new. Someone that makes me feel like a normal person again. Whole. I’m scared. I’m repulsed. This, it feels like a betrayal to you._

_Raymond tells me I can move on, that you’d want me to move on. I’m scared to. I can’t lose someone again. Targent is a bigger threat than ever._

_If I lose someone else to them I’d never forgive myself._


	37. Letters to Desmond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia records what's happening in Targent by writing letters to Desmond.

_Des,_

_I don’t know how long we’ve been here. I don’t even know if you think we’re alive. There’s so much to write. Fortunately (is it fortunate?) I have plenty of time and paper to put everything down._

_Vi is sleeping. She misses you._

_I can’t remember much from when they came to our home. One of the agents broke my leg, and I ended up passing out. I think the same agent broke Violet’s arm. We woke up in Targent’s infirmary. Not everyone is bad here, it seems. Owl -- she’s the nurse, the only nurse, can you imagine? -- managed to fix us up pretty good, considering. Did you know she’s learned everything through books? It’s incredible. I think you’d like her._

_They recently moved us to a flat in the base. We’re pretty high up, with a balcony. I’d go crazy if there weren’t any windows, let alone an outside area to just sit. There isn’t much to see, and the air here is thick and polluted, but honestly I think it’s better than just staring at the white walls._

_We’re being watched by guards around the clock. I can hear them talking, wondering why Bronev decided to keep us alive. Apparently he hasn’t been as forgiving to the others and their families. I think_

_Violet woke up from a nightmare and needed some pain medicine for her arm. I’ve been having nightmares, too. About our capture. If you think we’re alive, you must be worried sick._

_If you think we’re dead, don’t blame yourself. We still love you, and I hope we’ll see you again someday._

_Des,_

_They must have hit Violet in the head too, since she was telling me it hurt this morning. Whoever that agent was, I hope we never see him again._

_Des,_

_We got visited by Bronev’s right hand man. His name is Swift, and surprisingly he seems alright despite that big scar on his face. Vi was scared of him._

_He apologized. Said he was the head guy to overlook our capture and that you think we’re dead. They burnt the house down._

_Where are you going to live? Is Raymond okay?_

_Des,_

_Vi asks about you every day and when we’ll see you and Raymond again. I have to tell her that we won’t be seeing you any time soon._

_It breaks my heart. I have to be strong for our daughter._

_Des,_

_Got a visit from Bronev himself. He’s as bad as you say._

_He asked about you. What you do, where you go…. I think they already know, they just want confirmation._

_He didn’t even seem to notice Violet. She hid under her bed._

_Des,_

_Vi is going crazy in here. It’s definitely been a few weeks now._

_Hopefully I’ll find something to keep her entertained._

_Des,_

_Someone new came to visit us. She came through the balcony door._

_Des,_

_Her name is Emmy. Rachel adopted her. She doesn’t like Bronev, and speaks fondly of both Owl and Swift. They’re like her family._

_Violet has taken a real shining to her. I think Emmy likes her too. I catch them in her room talking about everything and nothing at all. It’s sweet._

_Des,_

_Owl managed to get Vi some stuffed animals and toys. Smuggled some up here on her checkup - Violet loves them._

_Des,_

_I told Emmy about you. She’s started bringing me magazines with you on the covers, newspaper clippings about you._

_They’re keeping tabs on you._

_Des,_

_You’re still doing research on the Azran?_

_I know that you’re in pain. Move on, please._


	38. Request (Liv and Vi): I don't feel well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet wakes up Olivia because she doesn't feel good.

“Mommy?” Olivia stirred, then cracked her eyes open, not fully awake yet. Violet was standing in front of her, tiny face flushed, even in the low light. “…Mommy?”

Olivia blinked a few times, waking up a bit more. “What is it, baby?” She reached out a hand to brush through Violet’s hair. Violet leaned into it, closing her eyes.

She was warm. Olivia pushed herself up onto an arm, feeling Violet’s forehead.

“…I don’t feel good, Mommy.”

“Well… you have a fever.” Violet put a hand on her head. “You can’t tell by yourself. Your body is running warmer than it normally does.”

Violet frowned. “But I’m _cold_.”

“I know.” Olivia pushed herself up fully, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Come here. Let’s go put a cold rag on your head, and we can tell the guards to get Owl to come by tomorrow, okay?” Violet buried her face into Olivia’s shoulder once she was picked up, clutching her night shirt in a tiny hand.

“My tummy hurts,” she mumbled.

“Is it really bad?” Olivia slowly rose to her feet, rubbing Violet’s back. She nodded. “Are you going to throw up?”

“…Uhuh.” Olivia continued into the small living room, then crossed to the main entrance. She quietly knocked on the door, then waited, leaning her head into Violet’s.

The doorknob rattled, then pushed open. The agent on the other side crossed her arms, pushing her sunglasses higher on her head. “What is it?”

“Violet’s sick,” Olivia said in response. “She has a fever.”

She was expecting the agent to say something snarky in response. Instead, the agent stepped through the doorway. “…Mind if I feel her head?”

“Is it okay with you, Violet?” The girl grumbled, then raised her head from Olivia’s shoulder. “She’s just going to feel your head.”

The agent stretched out her arm, feeling Violet’s head gently. “She’s definitely running warm….” She brushed a strand of red hair from her face, then met Olivia’s gaze again. “I… could take her to Owl right now, if you wanted.”

Olivia blinked. “Isn’t that… against some rule?”

“She’s a kid. Not a danger.” She looked back down at Violet. “How old is she?”

“She turned four a little while ago.” Olivia adjusted her hold on Violet.

“I’ll fight the boss myself if he’s got anything to say about me taking a kid to see Owl.” Her eyes were a light green, hard with resolve as she looked at Olivia again. “He doesn’t really care, anyways, and Swift’s not gonna get after me for bein’ decent.”

“Mommy?” Violet’s hand on her shirt tightened. “Are we gonna see Owl?”

“Do you wanna see Owl?”

“Mmm….” She nodded slowly. “Do you think she’ll have a toy for me?”

“She always does.” Olivia kissed her forehead. “Will you be brave and let….”

The agent gave a crooked smile. “Cardinal.”

“I can’t go with you, so will you be brave and let Cardinal take you to Owl?”

Violet looked at Cardinal, pressed herself against Olivia, then nodded again. “She’s not scary.”

“Violet –” Cardinal was laughing.

“Sure hope I’m not – oh!” She felt in her pocket for a moment. “It may not be much, but I managed to get a piece of candy from another agent who went on the field.”

“Her stomach hurts.”

“Ah – well, when she gets better –” She pulled out a small piece of candy. “Was gonna have it if a shift got bad, but I think she needs it more than I do. It’s hard caramel – I could give it to Owl!” She beamed. Olivia couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you always on guard?”

Cardinal nodded. “Night shifts, ma’am!”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Olivia started to hand Violet over. “Will she be back sometime tomorrow?”

“If she isn’t, I’ll be sure to let you know what’s going on as soon as I’m on shift!” Cardinal took Violet and placed her on her hip. Violet clung to her, looking at Olivia.

“…How are you so…?”

“Making the most of the situation.” Cardinal smiled again. “Can’t be down in the dumps all the time, and the others in here seem to need a reminder – and I haven’t seen a kid since I left to join Targent. Kids always make me smile.”

“They certainly have that effect, don’t they?” Olivia ran a hand through Violet’s hair. “I don’t know what I’d do if Violet wasn’t here.”

“You certainly wouldn’t be knocking on the door at three in the morning to ask me to take her to Owl.”

“No. I guess not.” Olivia hadn’t felt this… _normal_ , since their capture. Her smile was wide and genuine. Violet gave a tiny smile, herself. Olivia kissed Violet’s head again. “Owl’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Violet nodded.

“Go back and rest, Mrs. Sycamore.”

“Oh – Olivia’s fine.”

“Olivia.” Cardinal nodded. “Goodnight.” She turned her attention to Violet as she closed the door, the doorknob jiggling again as the agent relocked the door. “Let’s go see Owl, Violet.”


	39. Request (Swift & Raven): I'll keep you safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swift pulls Raven out of training.

“Y’alright, kid?” Raven looked up at Swift from where he was resting on Owl’s couch. “Asshole didn’t do anything to you?”

Raven’s pinched expression relaxed a bit. “No….” Then, it returned tenfold. “No’ ye’. What ya saw earlier was….” Raven waved a hand in the air, trying to find the word. He sighed, dropping his hand back into his lap. “No’ his worst.”

Swift raised a brow. “He’s done worse?”

“More than jus’ namecallin’ – he jus’ hates me.”

“Nah, that’s Sparrow.” Swift rubbed his face with a hand. “Still, he’s… it’s odd that he’d be so hostile right off the bat, but… he might be getting bolder, asshole.” Raven didn’t respond to that. Swift sighed. “How… kid, you’re young, right?”

“Sixteen.”

“ _Sixteen_ –” Swift leaned forward, covering his eyes with a hand. “Jesus _Christ_ , we’re recruiting actual _kids_ now, fuck _me_.”

Raven shifted, uncomfortable, as Swift pressed his fingers into his eyes, quiet curses tumbling from his lips. He glanced to the door, wondering when Owl would come back.

“Aaaaaalright.” Swift tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “Alright, I’m gonna pull you out of there.”

“Wh –”

“I’m gonna do my damndest to keep you safe.” Swift looked back down. “Look, Targent’s no place for anyone, ‘specially kids. So… I’m gonna pull you out of there, and put you here with Owl. That way you’re still doing something here. She needs the help too.”

Raven clutched his arm, and looked away for a few moments. “…You can… do tha’?”

“Boss doesn’t care, as long as we have more members.” Swift gave a wry, crooked smile. “Let’s get you transferred, kid.”


	40. Request (Owl & Sparrow): Get out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow's not allowed in the medical wing.

“ _Get out_!” Sparrow blinked, then tilted his head.

“The medical wing is open for everyone, right?” Owl narrowed her eyes at Sparrow’s smirk.

“Not for _you_. Not now. _Leave_.” A few stray agents paused mid-conversation to look Owl’s way. She glowered at Sparrow, undeterred. “You are a danger to my patients. You’re a danger to Swan. Leave.”

“Ah, is that where she went?” Owl bristled, crossed her arms, and straightened even more.

“Of course. She’s not stable enough to be on her own, and she certainly wouldn’t want to see you.”

“C’mon, Owl. Swift’s already ripped me a new one –”

“ _As I hope he did_ ,” she snarled. “What you did was unforgivable. Now _leave_ , before I get him over here.”

“Alright, alright… jeez, don’t get your damn panties in a bunch.” Owl’s expression twisted.

“You’re disgusting.” Sparrow sneered.

“I try my best.”

“ _Leave_.”

“Alright – I will.” _For now_.


	41. Request (Des & Nate): Talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate's not doing well

Nate had been quiet. Uncharacteristically so, since they had started their journey. Not only that, but he almost seemed to be… avoiding Desmond, and he didn’t like that one bit. He approached Nate at the front of the Bostonius, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He had lost weight. Desmond could tell. Nate continued to look ahead at the darkened sky, thin hands tightening on the wheel.

“…What is it, Des?” His voice was quiet. Desmond looked back at the couches, looking at Olivia and Violet’s sleeping forms, snuggled up to each other with one of his spare blankets draped over them. He looked over the rest of the group. Aurora was still, laying close to Violet. She was eerily still, but Desmond supposed there were people who slept like the dead – more than that, Aurora was a very special case.

“Talk to me,” he finally answered, turning back to Nate. “You’re… worrying me. When was the last time you slept? Ate something?”

“That’s….” Nate sighed. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Stress does that.” Desmond pursed his lips. Nate sounded more than exhausted, if that was possible. He took in a deep breath, swallowing down the question that sprang to his mind.

_Why are you avoiding me?_

“Nate. Let me drive.” Nate finally looked up at Desmond. He could see the circles under his eyes, like dark bruises.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“I can figure it out.”

“Des –”

“Go eat something and rest.” Desmond placed his other hand on the wheel. “We built this, I should hope _I_ know how to navigate us to our next destination.”

“That’s not how it works, but….” Nate slowly stood, stretching and popping his back. “If that’s what you want. We’re on a straight shot to Torrido, so just keep the Bostonius straight.”

“…Nate?”

“Mm?” Anxiety coiled in Desmond’s stomach.

“Can I… kiss you?” Nate’s expression shuddered, and sadness filtered through the exhaustion on his face.

“What about Olivia?”

“I….” Desmond shook his head. “Nate. Please?”

Nate gave a shaky exhale, then leaned down and pecked Desmond’s lips. Desmond frowned and grabbed Nate’s hand as he turned to leave.

“That hardly qualifies as a kiss.”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Are you really okay?” Nate gently pulled away from Desmond.

“…No."


End file.
